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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



CROAKINGS 

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m N. COG> 




Pf^ICE, 15 Cents. 



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Copyrighted 1892. 



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CROAKINGS 



-OF- 



I. N. COG. 



P^ICH, 15 Cents. / 

PUBLISHED BY THE 

KEYSTONE PRINTING AND LITHOGRAPHIC CO., 

WILLI AMSPORT, PA. 



Copyrighted 1892. 



I- 



has acquired a use of the language that, for a 
foreigner, is truly surprising. 

He lately departed for Europe leaving his 
lines to their fate. His last allusion to 
them was, "Merit wins ; if people want 
them they can be supplied, so long as the 
demand lasts, even if it runs into millions 
of copies." 

He is very sensitive with regard to inter- 
viewers, and in his travels leaves the author 
behind him. 

Perhaps Ignatius Donnolly may discover 
a cipher that will unravel much that is now 
shrouded in mystery. 

A Friend. 



GREETIHGS. 



i Pray, Mister Grit, 

And men of wit ; 
Both magazines and papers : 

Forgive betimes 

Imperfect rhymes 
With their fantastic capers. 

2 Should you ignore, 

Why then be sure — 
But what in sense is the use 

To just suppose, 

When the world knows 
You'd miss an item of news. 



3 You deem it wise 
To advertise: 

I have no doubt upon it, 
But then to think, 
It takes the chink 

And will not take the sonnet. 

4 I thus extend 
On fingers' end 

This bantling brat of mine, 

For interview ; 

Its spanking new 
In every word and line. 




A PORTRAIT. 



i Should you behold amidst the fog 
A dapper, yellow-legged frog, 
With goggle eyes, both set agog, 
You recognize our I. N. Cog. 

2 Reclining on a log of oak 
You'll often hear him loudly croak, 
"There's many a tad put down to soak 
That never sang and never spoke. 



3 "The world with all its beauty green 
Reflected in this bog is seen ; 

The air is balmy and serene 
And tempered by a leafy screen. 

4 "Be not surprised," he would remark, 
"At any change; for after dark 

This bog becomes a fairy park 
And lighted by the fire-fly's spark." 

5 Our own dear frog with flaxen hair, 
Surrounded by the young and fair, 

Is out to take the evening air — 

No doubt, my friend, you'll find him there. 



6 Or sit to-night on yonder hill, 

Of music sweet, then drink your fill. 

I see by looking o'er the bill, 

He concerts with the whip-poor-will. 

7 His music then you cannot blame, 
You've heard it oft, it is the same ; 
He follows not the ignis* flame 

In search of wealth, perchance of fame. 

8 Yet who would blame, if from the mire, 
He to Pornassus' heights aspire ; 

Since gods bestow poetic fire 

On those alone whom they inspire. 



*lgnis fat u us or iack o' lantern. 



9 The time he knows and 'tis the hour 
His lady sits within her bower ; 

To her he pays all his devours, 
The fairest and the sweetest flower. 

10 A happy and conceited frog, 
He sits upon a mossy log ; 
With goggle eyes, both set agog, 
You recognize our 

I. N. Cog. 



LIFE'S MYSTERIES. 



i No brush can paint the electric spark, 
Or words the depth of sinning ; 

No thought can climb through night so dark 
Up to the first beginning. 

2 The beginning that never began, 

The end that endeth never, 
Is bridged by time of shortest span, 

And life flows on forever. 



3 Beneath these arches, narrow, glide 
Our hopes and fears ensuing, 

And we as well as fate decide 
Our doing or undoing. 

4 Here memory her vigil keeps, 
And hope waits for the morning ; 

Here love has lost and vainly weeps,, 
All consolation scorning. 

5 Whate'er the future holds in store 
In all the distant ages, 

The fairest part is written o'er 
In youth's dear mystic pages. 



6 The sweetest notes of warblers heard, 
In deepest dell or wild wood, 

Stir not the heart as once they stirred 
In happy days of childhood. 

7 Where truth conceals its simplest part, 
Naught is availed by learning ; 

Nor can we search the human heart 
With lamps of science burning. 

8 For every gleaming star we see, 
How many lights have perished ! 

And minds as far apart may be, 

E'en those we most have cherished. 



9 How vain is all the tomb shall tell, 
Yet all is still unseen ; 

And fondest hearts in wedlock dwell, 
While oceans stretch between. 

10 O wondrous thought ! O woman's love I 
O spell of beauty ! filling 

Expanse of earth, and heaven above, 
And all our senses thrilling. 

1 1 Not in this heavy, frozen heart, 
That 'neath these lines is buried, 

Can thrill of love its pulses start, 
Nor can its sleep be hurried. 



12 Yet from its mold the rose shall bloom, 

Its fragrance wafted ever ; 
Beyond this life is love's perfume, 

Forever and forever. 




THE MUSE. 



i Once in a thousand years 
A colonade uprears 

Its tall majestic form. 
On earth its resting place, 
In some drear desert space : 

Its top beyond the storm. 

2 Above its rugged base* 
Is chiseled every grace 
Of architecture's art ; 



*A11 poetry is in the early development of language 
in a sense crude ; but in the progress of refinement, it 
conforms to rules, and is an index of the state of the 
language at the time it is written. 



With rarest colors blent^ 
As if it were intent 

To captivate the heart. 

3 The unassisted eye 

Its height may ne'er discry, 
Nor toil its summit reach. 
But all may here behold 
Its beauties, rare, unfold, 

Beyond the power of speech. 

4 To whom the gods assist 
To mount above the mist 

Of earth, on eagle's wings. 
He may its heights ascend, 
And on creation bend 

His gaze, awhile he sings. 



5 Heaven opens to his view, 
Earth seems to him as new 

And in its early prime. 
Caverns profound disclose 
Their treasure house of woes, 

Their venom and their slime. 

6 Enraptured thus he hears 
The music of the spheres, 

A god among the stars. 
Creation's glories blend, 
And while their lights ascend, 

For him their glowing bars. 

7 To his delighted sense, 
Creation's vast expanse, 

A perfect symphony. 



Her chords responsive thrill, 
And all his being fill 

With grandest harmony. 

8 All forms of being stand 
In all their beauty grand 

Before him, he a part. 
And in his being feels 
All passions, woes and ills 

That fill the human heart. 

9 High Priest of the Most High,f 
Thy home is in the sky, 

Where God and angels be. 



fPoet and prophet are nearly synonymus. This ap- 
plied to one if not to both. 



Foretaste of heaven is thine,, 
Of peace and love divine, 
And love's sweet purity. 

10 Against thy mystic wand 
Time shall withhold his hand. 

Thy verse shall ever be 
Type and symbol proved, 
Of all were hoped and loved, 

And immortality. 

1 1 But joys of earth to thee, 
Wealth, friends, hilarity, 

Are gifts of earth unsent. 
The musings of thy heart 
Are from the world apart 

And of loftier bent. 



12 By thee is understood 
The spirit of the wood 

And the wierd water sprite : 
The mountain's mighty power, 
The ocean's mystic dower, 

And broodings of the night. 

13 Bowing at every shrine, 
Feeling a force divine, 

All nature's worshipper. 
A teacher wisely taught 
Thou art in subtle thought 

God's own interpreter. 



PASSION'S APPEAL. 



HE. 

Sit thee, maiden, down beside me. 
What can I thine ill betide thee ? 
What thou fearest, idle ever 
Hearts' true love there's none can sever. 
As the bird when night is falling 
Gently to his mate is calling, 
So my love to thee unshaken 
Shall thy heart's true love awaken. 
Bold am I ? Such beauty charms me, 
Speech and beauty now disarm me, 



Lips so sweet deserve the tasting, 
Lips are flowers where bees are feasting ; 
Closer still thine arms about me, 
What is all the world without thee? 

she. 

What am I, that thou hast won me ? 
What I am, thou hast undone me ; 
Leave me not, O never leave me 
Cruel thus ; can love deceive me ? 
By the world though unforgiven, 
Though unfit for earth or heaven, 
Yet I swear by heaven above me, 
Still, my lover, still I love thee. 



HE. 

Sleep, O gentle lady, ever, 

In thy grave beside the river. 

When before the throne we're meeting 

Angels give thee gentle greeting ; 

Mine the gnilt, on me alone, 

Lord of hosts, thy wrath atone. 




ADDRESS TO CUPID. 



i. 

Those lovely eyes they spake so kind, 
Dear Cupid, wast thou alway blind ? 
Too well I know that thou canst see, . 
And skillful use thine archery. 

II. 

My bleeding heart, how couldst thou spurn ? 

Sweet pity to thy breast return ; 

But now, too late, alas I find 

When I am wounded thou art blind. 



III. 

Keen to direct but blind to heal, 
I mourn, but fain would I conceal 
No joys I see, no comfort find, 
I would like thee I had been blind. 



TWO SHIPS. 



i Two ships sailed out to sea, 
And they were lashed together, 

And all went merrily 

All in the pleasant weather. 

2 Then came the wind and rain, 
And loudly pealed the thunder ; 

The cable parted twain, 
They drifted far asunder. 



3 And one was wrecked on shore, 
While one away was sailing, 

And then returned no more 

While tears adown were falling: 



&• 



4 God bless the sailors on 

Life's sea in stormy weather ; 

God bless them when, anon, 
Theyr'e sailing lashed together. 



A DREAM. 



i I had a dream ; all things were mixed 

In dire and sad confusion. 
All rules were vain that order fixed, 

And all was grand profusion. 

2 Economy no more was thought 

Proper to be commended ; 
Until the wealth that hands had wrought 

Had very nearly ended. 



3 Then hunger came, like beasts of prey, 
Each sought to slay the other. 

And desolation's proud array 
Was brother 'gainst the brother. 



&' 



4 Dire was the feud and long the strife 
And law its reign had ended ; 

And all that brightens human life 
Had long since been expended. 

5 In dark and dismal caverns then 
Had nocked the vast banditi, 

A horde of gloomy savage men 
That pillaged oft the city. 



6 And, in the ripened harvest fields, 
The corn was sadly wasted. 

While labor, scant in wages yields, 
And dear the food that's tasted. 

7 O better yet it is to bear 
The burdens of existence, 

Beneath the law's abiding care, 
That guarantees subsistence. 

8 O better thus, than under sway, 
That innovation forges. 

What safety's in the future day 
Of all the Henry Georges ? 



BETWEEH THE LIHES. 



i Whatever statements men may make, r 
Whatever views they choose to take ; 
However speech and fact combines, 
We read, my friend, between the lines. 

2 Or when we hear a story told, 
Of travel or adventure bold ; 
Whate'er the tale, or its confines, 

We read, my friends, between the lines. 

3 Or when we'er out to take a walk, 
Whate'er we say, however we talk ; 
What's said or done, with what designs, 
Is read, my friend, between the lines. 

4 The same is true, ho we'er we mix 
In pleasure, trade or politics ; 
Whoever flatters or maligns, 

Is read, my friend, between the lines. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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